101 Tequila Shots To The Heart
by Meena Lovespell
Summary: As the future of Cuba's  OAS  membership hangs on the balance, Mexico is left to make a decision to choose between Cuba and America. Whose side will she take? Latin Hetalia/Mexico, Mexico/America/Cuba.  Skip to newest chapter for this story.
1. Grilled Cheese Confessions

**AN:** This one hundred and one short stories challenge, came from a couple of items and scenarios that have been wildly clouding my imagination for an original Hetalia character of mine for the personification of Mexico, named Maria.

The series of short stories is written in _anachronistic order,_and revolve around the current and historical relations of Mexico, but also contains numerous canon and original characters of mine, with a touch of character development for each character along the line.

I may also keep this writing piece ongoing for several months or even years until I finish this challenge; if I don't get crippled by the evils of writer's block.

So, please enjoy the ride and don't feel pressured to submit a review. A subscribed watch to my story is just as good as a review, if not better.

Comments, suggestions, requests, and constructive criticisms are also received with welcoming arms.

Tambien hablo el espanol, si me quieres dar un comentario .ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ

((**Additional Note:** Readers can always check the latest updates of my stories on my profile. Or if you want to read the newest chapter update, skip ahead! **References and translations of each story are available at the bottom.**))

Hetalia © of Hidekazu Himaruya

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><p><strong>An American Intro- Grilled Cheese Confessions:<strong>

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><p>[<em>Year 2008, start of the Merida Initiative.][i]<em>

"And why is it that you won't let me cook Alfredo?" Mexico heaved an exasperated sigh as she shifted her gaze to the arrogant blond dressed in a frilly apron, attempting to make lunch for the both of them in his American stylized kitchen.

"Because the last time you did, I had to drink two gallons of water to take the taste of jalapenos from my mouth dude, that's why." A smile broke out on his face as Alfred flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches on the pan. It was not cheeseburgers and fries which were the American's favorite, but grilled cheese sandwiches was a fool proof course also fast and easy to assemble, all the classic ingredients that were up Mr. Jones's alley."Besides, I don't know how you and your brothers and sisters can even stand that food to begin with, it's all spicy and hot, it burns a hole through my stomach," he continued.

"That spiciness is called flavor Alfredo, and you should try it more often, it's better than the bland food I've had in both your and England's restaurants," Mexico snidely remarked from her seat.

"What? No way man, my food is way better than Iggy's gross pastries thingies," he exclaimed.

"Scones," Mexico impassively corrected.

"Right, scones, gnomes, frones, whatever it all tastes like petrified couch stuffing," America scoffed offhandedly, flipping the sandwiches on its opposite side in the frying pan.

Mexico fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair. It had been a while since she and America spent some time together that didn't pertain to work or any world conferences. Plus with the strain of immigration issues and drug trafficking at the USA/Mexican border, the time alone they were sharing felt more like a bittersweet mixture of heartwarming nostalgia and crude awkwardness. But the Mexican assumed it was due to her witnessing the world greatest super power at his most vulnerable and sensitive, much as he used to be before he won his freedom from Britain and the Mexican American war. Lately, it seemed that she grew too accustomed the powerful, warring, jealous, bossy, and the thoughtless side of him rather when it came to their joint international predicaments that she had forgotten how overly sentimental he could be. Mexico found a smile curl at the corner of her mouth at the recognition of their childhood as colonies riddled with occasional moments such as these.

Alfred's eyebrow hoisted at the silence of the young woman in his graces; he could only conclude that she was daydreaming, naturally he assumed she was daydreaming about him. After all, he was the hero, her hero. "Hey Maria, you okay, you look quiet. What's the matter, dreaming of me again dude?"

She blinked shrugging off her wandering reflections of their past at the sound of America's blaring cackle. After a second or two, her honey hazel eyes locked away on to Alfred's sky blue gape, and she decided to pick up the passing dialogue to fill the growing stillness in the room.

"_Claro que no cabrón,_ [ii] why would I ever dream of you, _además, _[iii] the only reason you're even spending time with me was because our bosses wanted to us to strengthen our relations so that you could help me with the drug war. Other than that you hardly ever visit me unless you want to pick a fight or boss me around," Maria candidly remarked.

Alfred rolled his eyes, escaping a depleted sigh. Why did she always have to be so bitter and stubborn, _couldn't she ever let anything go?_ Leaving his American delicacy on the stove momentarily, he walked over to the kitchen table and pulled up the chair next to her. With no response but a defiant glance back at him, America sat down and gently cupped his hand under her jaw, holding her pretty face in place.

"Maria, look at me." America pleaded in a low mutter. Mexico remained silent, her body stiffening at the request of the stronger intimidating nation. "I know that we haven't always gotten along, especially about the whole 'illegal immigration' and drug cartel stuff. But I do love you Maria. Maybe it's not as strong as it used to be, but you know I'll always be your hero right?"

The Hispanic country feebly nodded, and her rosy lips quivered as the American assertively crushed his lips over hers. Initially the kissing started off sweetly, but quickly deepened passionately when the blond tangled his gloved fingers through her flowing cascading locks, bringing their two wanton bodies nearer.

Mexico, whose curvy figure gelled into her partner currently, restrained a guttural moan in the back of her throat where the blond licentiously was entangling his own tongue with hers. Immediately sensing that his romantic partner was holding back, Alfred teasingly slithered his nimble hands up the Hispanic woman's dress until he gingerly traced the delicate lining of her lace undergarment, sending waves of pleasurable tremors down her spine that eventually released the moan into his mouth. He smirked lustfully, enjoying the sinful view of his childhood friend wither at his touch and dominance; it always managed to arouse him no matter how many times they habitually made love.

The kitchen chairs nosily clanked together as the couple feverishly continued their heavy petting and make out session, until the American decided that the chairs were in the way and roughly pushed Maria on her back to the tiled kitchen floor. Several cups and napkins fell to the floor from the impulsive decision, though it did nothing to deter America from proceeding to occupy his fellow countries' vital regions.

Feeling Alfred's finger dig deeply into her arms on the impact of the floor, Mexico bit the bottom of her lover's lip, drawing small drops of blood before tentatively sucking on the cut. America, catching the waft of the smell of her flowery fragrance, turned away to suckle on her neck passionately as he grinded his growing arousal between her legs. Instinctively following the American's frenzied direction, Maria enfolded her toned legs around his waist, allowing him to knead his hand on her ample breast, making her moans and pants increasing with each passing friction.

"Tell me how much you want it, beg for it," He huskily groaned into her neck, where he had formed a cluster of small hickeys.

"Ameri-," Mexico gasped in a moan as the American continued his governing lead and unbuttoned the top of her dress, kissing any fresh caramel toned flesh in sight. Growing impatient for a complete answer, Alfred playfully nipped her nipple through the mesh fabric of her brassiere, and Maria snaked her slender fingers to his dress shirt unbuttoning it expeditiously.

"Say it, stop teasing me," Alfred growled, reaching his tipping point.

"America-I," Mexico halted, sniffing the air filled with smoke above them. _"Aye Carajo, se está quemando!" _[iv]

"Yeah I know babe, I'm hot, and you're hot. Can you just say what I wanna hear so we can do it already?" He commented in a strange concoction of lust and sexual frustration.

Maria gritted her teeth irritatingly, punching the oblivious blond in the arm. "No not us _pendejo_, [v] your kitchen it's on fire!"

"The kitchens on fire…say what?" Just as Alfred repeated the statement entirely mystified by the piercing screech of the smoke detector went off, causing both countries to cover their ears simultaneously.

Swiftly scrambling to his feet and briefly disregarding the blaring noise before releasing a few hushed curse words under his breath, the American flung his closet door open pulling his fire extinguisher out to kill the spreading fire in the kitchen.

Mexico slowly propped up, scowling snappily with her hands remaining glued to her ears. It was once she observed the Caucasian male minutes later standing in the doorway with the extinguisher in hand, that she eventually uncovered her ears.

"So, we aren't going to let a little thing like a kitchen fire spoil our fun, right?" Alfred desperately hoped that the near death experience of killing both of them by practically carelessly burning them alive for burning unattended grilled cheese sandwiches, wouldn't dampen the mood for sex. Though, he doubted otherwise, knowing Mexico for ages he could tell by the stabbing glare on her face that it was a definite non-verbal, no.

Before Maria could even muster a contemptuous refusal to the blatantly obvious, her starving stomach growled back in response first. "Did the sandwiches at least survive?" She managed to ask with a narrowing optimism.

"Well, if we scrape the brunt off portions and the parts where I sprayed the fire extinguisher on, I guess it would be still good to eat!" Alfred exclaimed with a childish grin.

The Hispanic woman deadpanned, jerking her fallen bra strap into its proper place. "Feed me food that wouldn't kill me _Alfredo, por el amor de dios!_" [vii]

"Right,** (I)** the hero can handle that, and I'll supersize it too. I'll even let you have you have your own freedom fries this time!" America asserted in boisterous laughter.

"_Lo sabia… este pinche gringo me va a matar_," [viii] Mexico gripes in response.

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><p><strong>ReferencesTranslations:**

[i] The Mérida Initiative (also called Plan Mexico), Is the security cooperation agreement between the United States and the government of Mexico and the countries of Central America, with the declared aim of combating the threats of drug trafficking, transnational organized crime and money laundering.

[ii] "Of course not, bastard."

[iii]"Besides."

[iv] "Fuck, it's burning!"

[v] "Idiot/moron.

[vii] "For the love of god."

[viii] " I knew it, this American is going to kill me."(Gringo," is used as a disparaging term for a foreigner in Latin America, especially an American or English person.)


	2. Forever, My Brother Spain

**AN: **I've wanted to write this particular short story about Spain and Mexico (called New Spain during colonial days) for a while, but it was just sitting in my laptop for weeks. When I finally let my mind go wild with internal dialogue of these two characters, I imagined that they would share a moment such as this, filled with anxiety, love and melancholy.

Also, admittedly my guilty pleasure is the Mexico/Spain pairing, along with US/Mexico, mostly because of the heavy shared histories between these nations even to this day. Enjoy, review if you wish, and thank you for reading!

_Side Fact:_ In March 2006, it became illegal in Uruguay to smoke in enclosed public spaces. Now bars, restaurants or offices where people are caught smoking face fines of more than $1,100 or a three-day closure. This makes Uruguay the first country in South America to ban smoking in enclosed public spaces.

In my head cannon, I picture that the low tolerance for smokers for the country personification for Uruguay has somehow manifested because of his brother, Cuba's fault.

((**Additional Note:** Readers can always check the latest updates of my stories on my profile. Or if you want to read the newest chapter update, skip ahead! **References and translations of each story are available at the bottom.**))

Comments, suggestions, requests, and constructive criticisms are also received with welcoming arms.

Tambien hablo el espanol, si me quieres dar un comentario .ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ

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><p><strong>Forever, My Brother Spain<strong>

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><p><em>[Year 1752, Spanish viceroyalty colonial times.]<em>

She was disgusted.

There were no more words to describe how New Spain felt at the grotesque spectacle of profuse bruises that adorned her body. Sitting in her colonial stylized bed downhearted, Maria gently massaged the developing fresh bruises protruding to the surface of her tanned skin. Feeling the severe symptoms of Spain's monarchial Fascism being inflicted on her people engulf her into a slight fever again, she released a quivering curse.

How long would she have to bare the "growing pains," of her older brother's burdensome taxes? The colony produced an unmitigated sigh, realizing that the rest of her siblings were bearing the same unfortunate fate as she was. Sure, some were better at hiding their suffering from Antonio and his unwavering fits of cheerfulness, like Cuba and Argentina, but Maria could see through their façade just as easily as the others that weren't so skillful to hiding their own forming contusions.

Of course, she was no better; here, she was in her room hiding from Spain as soon as her own body started to ache from his most recent tax hike earlier at the dinner table.

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><p><em>[10 minutes earlier]<em>

"Maria, where are you going? You haven't even touched your churros." [i] Antonio furrowed his eyebrows in concern. It wasn't usual to see any of his adopted brothers and sisters leave the dinner table so abruptly, even more so with their favorite dishes on the table in front of them.

"Is something wrong, do you want me to-?" He continued.

The colony dryly cut the Mediterranean country's sentence short with a forced smile and a dismissive wave. "_No es nada hermano Espana_, [ii] I just feel a little tired. I think I'm going to lie down for a while."

"Are you sure, _mi tesoro_. [iii] Do you want me to go with you and rub your back," Spain proposed rising from his seat at the head of the dinner table.

The other colonies at the table twisted their faces in disgust at how incredibly sexually suggestive the proposal was though by now all the Latin American colonies, were thoroughly accustomed to the perverted colonist sexual advances by now.

Maria recoiled, bringing her arms out softly to protest. "_No estoy bien, por favor no te molestas_."[iv]

With his sister declaration, the Spaniard slowly regained his position at the head of the table, debating whether he should ignore her negation of helping her, but instead he silently nodded and watched his beloved colony leave with stirring apprehension.

Seconds later a sneer snorted out of Guatemala's nose. "_Niña __Malcriada__._" [v]

Argentina murmured in accord with his brother with a sardonic, "c_he_," [vi] finishing the end of his meal.

As for the rest of the colonies, many decided to rouse the tense atmosphere clinging in the air, and continued to eat. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they just as their sister Mexico was starting to feel the drainage of Spain's announcement to collect more taxes for his relentless war efforts in Europe, but they didn't dream of letting their powerful boss Spain know that.

It goes without saying that the majority of the colonies didn't manage to eat their meals comfortably.

Cuba rolled his eyes and impassively pushed his empty plate away in irritation. He didn't understand his sister's theatrics sometimes. Didn't Maria know that his people were exhausted from working in the sugar cane fields and the exploitation of the Spaniards too? Knowing the answer to his own rhetorical question, he took a cigar out from his pocket and lit it in his mouth. Smoking always bothered his pious brother Spain, but he figured given the current situation, that the tobacco would calm his nerves and the growing pains. Plus he doubted that Antonio's mind would be too preoccupied with his sister's dramatics to begin to nitpick at him. A quick glance to inattentive expression drawn on Spain's face, reaffirmed Cuba's suspicions and he let a long drag of his cigar out, hitting his brother Uruguay square in the face.

"_Te voy a romper el orto,"_ [vii] The Uruguayan fumed with a hack of smoke in his lungs.

In silent retaliation, Cuba released another cloud of smoke into the blond's face. He smirked, watching his brother seethe with anger. "O'kay, I'll like to see you go ahead n' try Chico."

"_Hijio de su-_," [viii] Before Uruguay could fully lunge at Cuba at the table, his twin Paraguay, shaking his head in disapproval, muted his brother's attempted assault on his Cuban brother by forcefully holding him back.

Columbia, Honduras, and El Salvador only face palmed at the usual dinner fight, while Peru and Chile only giggled in glee, the rest of the colonies either smiled or frowned upon at the wild display obviously not affecting their elder brother Spain, strangely enough.

Puerto Rico, who was sitting the closest to Spain at the table, couldn't stop but worry about her older brother's lack of interest in the usual hijinks of his siblings. Bravely, she finally tugged kindly on Antonio's shirt sleeve, hoping that he would snap out of the trance he was in. "_Hermano Espana_, [ix] what's wrong? Is it brother Cuba and Uruguay?"

Spain smiled, cupping his hand sweetly under the tiny girl's face and planting a tender kiss upon the small colonies' forehead. "_No mi reyna eso no es_. [x] I'm just worried about your sister, _Nueva Espana_ that's all. I'm going to go check on her and make sure she's alright. You make sure your brothers and sisters don't kill each other while I'm gone, _si_?" [xi]

She nodded in acknowledgment, watching her Spanish boss slip past the feuding teens and pre-teens at the dining table, leaving behind a set of angry Latin American countries and llama. Just why there was a llama in the dining room or how, she hadn't had the slightest clue.

However, she figured that it was the least of her concerns for now.

"Why does is it always _**me**_ that has to stop my idiot brothers," growled Puerto Rico.

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><p>Upstairs, Antonio gradually made his way through the elaborate labyrinth of stairs separating him and his beloved viceroyalty, New Spain. When he finally reached the top of the stairs, it caught him by surprise to see his colonies' door left ajar.<p>

Spain froze, digging his fingers into the stair railing holding his balance. He knew that his sister would never forgive him for rudely intruding into her room unexpectedly; however, he dreaded not knowing if his colonies' aliment had further deteriorated while he was downstairs. The nagging thought wouldn't allow him to rest comfortably until he made sure his little Maria was well.

Proceeding cautiously, Antonio peered into the crack of the door partially opened. Initially Spain didn't see much inside the dimly lit room but soon noticed the budding teen's curvaceous figure of his younger adoptive sister staring into her vanity mirror, examining what appeared to be bruises or welts on her back.

Carelessly, a guilty involuntary gasp rippled out of the conquistador's mouth, and before Antonio managed to cover his mouth, his sister caught the impression of being spied on and hastily covered her exposed skin. Whether it was his own ineptness at his stalking abilities or Maria's naturally sharp intuition that triggered the impression of being gawked at, Spain wasn't quite sure. Regardless, he remained still and briefly suspended his breathing, hoping that eventually she would shrug off her suspicions as paranoia.

After all his original intention was only to ensure that she was well, not to provoke another passionate slap to the face for committing another caught case of voyeurism. He wasn't going down that road again, at least not while she was conscious enough to throw inanimate objects at him.

_"Déjame en paz Guatemala,_ [xii]and don't say it's not you because I can hear your creepy breathing from all the way over here,_ güey__." _[xiii]_  
><em>

Spain tensed; this blow to the ego obviously was directed at his younger brother Guatemala and not at him. Though he was still reluctant to retort back, Maria's anger was already beginning to smolder over, a regular ominous indication that she obviously wasn't in best sociable of moods.

However, now that Spain thought of it, his sister was incredibly cute when she was mad. She reminded Spain so much of his little Lovino when her dainty cheeks flushed to a vibrant tomato red in anger. The very thought of it caused a nostalgic smile to spread thinly on his face.

"_Ay, no mi Tesoro, soy yo Antonio_."[xiv] Spain finally broke his silence.

A grunt of annoyance from New Spain followed soon after. "_Ahora, que quieres Espana_, [xv] I've already told I'm not feeling well." She sourly scolded.

The Spanish Empire nodded in comprehension.

"I know, but I still wanted to check up on you Maria, and make sure that you're okay." He paused, now standing in clear view from his hiding place behind the door. Not knowing how to break the foreboding silence in the room, Antonio burst into a nervous chuckle.

A faint blush appeared over New Spain's face in effect to her caretaker's concern. Internally she berated herself for the visible act, especially since her older brother grin only made her both uneasy and embarrassed. "I already told you that I am fine Espana, so you _don't_ have to worry about me."

"Nonsense _nina mia, _[xvi] as your older brother I must take care of you! Now, come here. Let me check your temperature."

New Spain grimaced, turning her head away disobediently. "No, I don't want you to."

A cough abruptly betrayed her prideful statement, and despite her best wishes Maria quickly found Spain's heavy hand on her forehead.

"Hmm, just as I thought your economy must not be doing so well. I might have to raise the taxes in New Granada [xvii] until you feel better, _no_?" Antonio smiled, taking a ripe tomato from his pocket and offering it to his ill viceroyalty. "Here eat this, it'll make you feel better, okay?"

Maria's golden eyes widen with apprehension. Did she hear her Spanish boss correctly? Was he planning on burdening her portion of the tax hike on her other siblings? No, she couldn't allow it. Not her brothers and sisters they have suffered enough. "No!"

Antonio saddened, why had his favored colony refused him. More importantly why did she reject his delicious tomato? "_Pero mi corazon_, [xviii] taste it, I promise it's not so bad once you try it."

"I wasn't talking about the _jitomate__, idiota_. [xix] I was talking about New Granada; don't raise the taxes more because of me. I'm healthy enough to carry my own weight!"

Spain's smile evaporated into a harden facial expression. It was the same calloused face Maria witnessed when he returned from his pirate battles overseas. She felt goose bumps climb her arm at the bare sight. Pirate Spain has been always more violent and more terrifying than the carefree tomato crazed fool she always knew as her boss. Just how exactly the tumultuous pirate life created this frightening alter ego in Antonio she couldn't decipher. However, all of her instincts told her to run but she found herself petrified instead. So by the time, her brother promptly sat next to her on her bed, forcibly laying her on her back while firmly pinning her wrists to her side, Maria hardly had any time to escape.

"_María, María, María, realmente eres un maravilla_."[xx] Antonio snidely remarked, nuzzling his chin amorously into the crook of her neck.

Unclear of her brother's motives, New Spain remained still.

"_Esta bien mi quierda_, [xxi] I won't raise the taxes for New Granada for now. But I want you to know that I don't do this intentionally to hurt you. I know you don't understand this now, but one day you'll understand the sacrifices that countries must do for the wellness of their people and kingdom_._ _Pero no te preocupes por eso ahora, _[ xxii]better yet, tell _hermano Espana _what I can do to help you feel better, okay?" Antonio smiled though the smirk itself was pretentious.

The viceroyalty stomach churned with a mixture of rising fever and resentment. How dare the Spanish European accuse her and her siblings of not comprehending the burden of sacrifices? All her brothers and sisters have been doing was sacrificing everything for their older brother and his imperial empire, from their lands, to their resources, and even their own people for slave labor. Maria gritted her teeth, swallowing an acidic lump of bitterness forming in the back of her throat.

"If you want to make me feel better, then give me my independence _Espana_!"

As soon the colony shakily managed to growl her response. The relaxed grip her brother originally had around her wrists constricted tighter. Afraid to stare into the passionate eyes of her superior, the petite teen tried to look away only to have nails cut deeply into her skin, demanding immediate attention back to her aggressor. Unwillingly she followed suit and glimpsed up to a pair of furious green eyes slicing into her.

Under the conquistador's grasp, the small colony trembled in fear, yet still retained a silent air of superiority. Feeling the sting of her impertinence, Antonio's clutched her delicate shoulders and gave a firm shake.

He didn't want to do this, but a colony that didn't know their place was a threat to a growing empire at the whims of war.

"New Spain, the day that I give you your independence will be the day that I die. You are mine, and it will be a **cold day in hell** before I let anyone take you or my family away! Do you hear me?" The Spaniard frigidly reprimanded.

"_Ay hermano_, please stop you're hurting me!"

It wasn't long during Spain's temporal fury, that he finally regained his senses again. Dismayed at the sight of the terrified teen trembling beneath him. Antonio liberates his grasp and affectionately retires his head on to his sister's chest, silently contrite for his actions.

As perplexing as Antonio's sudden change of heart was; Maria knew that her brother's impulsive display of warmth could hardly be accepted as a verbal apology for his fit of possessive rage. No, the viceroyalty knew better of her boss to anticipate an apology from the great country of Spain, especially since he was always too passionately stubborn for such things. But for the moment his embrace was comforting enough, if not enough to allow the distraught teen's tears to subside.

Sensing the need to pacify her guilt-ridden older sibling, Maria ran her slim fingers through his russet locks.

"_Nueva __Espana, __porque __tú __ya __no me quieres_?" [xxiii] Antonio's voice was low and melancholy, almost childlike.

"_Quien te __dijo, __que __no te __quiero,"_[xxiv] the young woman answered back with a fatigued sigh.

The Spaniard cuddles his face deeper in her chest, breathing in the scent that could only be associated with his New Spain, an aroma of chocolate, chilies, and flowers.

"Then why do you want to leave me? Aren't you happy with our family...Do you no longer want me to be your older brother?"

Maria's eye lids drooped slightly, and she brushed her dainty fingers through her brother's hair again, failing to articulate an immediate answer to precisely why she wanted to break free from his vast empire of Spain.

Ultimately electing to be empathetic for her brother's newfound vulnerability than to risk receiving Spain's wrath again, Maria plainly reassured. "You'll forever be my brother _Espana_. Nothing will ever change that."

Antonio expelled a sigh of relief, though secretly he yearned to hear a definitive answer to his entire question instead of her of indirect, partial one. Still, the European decided to settle on what little response she gave, he would just have to be more determined to convince or romance her out of the silly idea of sovereignty later.

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><p><strong>ReferencesTranslations:**

i Spanish doughnut, essentially.

ii "It's nothing, brother Spain."

iii "My treasure." (It's also a common, Spanish term of endearment.)

iv "No please, I'm fine. Don't bother."

v "Spoiled girl."

vi (Che) is a Spanish diminutive interjection (a vocative expression) commonly used in Argentina and Uruguay.

vii "I'm going to kick your ass!"

viii "Son of a bitch!"

ix "Brother Spain."

x "No my queen, that isn't it."

xi "Yes."

xii "Leave me alone, Guatemala."

xiii Güey is typically Mexican Spanish slang for, "dude. (Negatively it could also mean, "dick/asshole.")

xiv "Oh, no my treasure. It's me, Antonio."

xv "What do you want now, Spain?"

xvi "My girl."

xvii New Granada, was a Spanish colonial jurisdiction in northern South America, corresponding mainly to modern Colombia, Ecuador, Panama, and Venezuela. The territory corresponding to Panama was incorporated later in 1739. In addition to these core areas, the territory of the Viceroyalty of New Granada included Guyana, and parts of northwestern Brazil, northern Peru, Costa Rica and Nicaragua.

xviii "But my love."

xix "The tomato, idiot."

xx "María, María, María, you truly are a marvel!"

xxi "It's fine, my dear."

xxii "But, don't worry about that now."

xxiii "New Spain, why don't you love me anymore?"

xxiv "Who said I didn't love you?"


	3. The OAS Blues: Part I

**A/N**: This short story came to me, after reviewing some history books about the Cuban revolution in the late sixties. There may be some historical inaccuracies in this story, but I took the liberty of embellishing some historical details to fit the characters and the story. So, I apologize now if certain tweaked details, offend any history lovers out there. Regardless, I still hope you enjoy the first installment of this story.

(I originally didn't intend to divide this story, but it turned out much longer than I expected, which is why this will be a two-part short story.)

I also just want to thank the people who reviewed, and subscribed for this story. Words can't describe how much I appreciate your input and support!

Comments, suggestions, requests, and constructive criticisms are also received with welcoming arms.

Tambien hablo el espanol, si me quieres dar un comentario .ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ

((**Additional Note:** Readers can always check the latest updates of my stories on my profile. Or if you want to read the newest chapter update, skip ahead! **References and translations of each story are available at the bottom.**))

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><p><strong>The (OAS) Blues-Part I<strong>

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><p>"All men are born free and equal, in dignity and in rights, and, being endowed by nature with reason and conscience, they should conduct themselves as brothers one to another."<p>

— Preamble, American Declaration of the Rights and Duties of Man—

_[Year 1962, (OAS) Eighth Meeting of Consultation, Punta Del Este, Uruguay]_

A waft of Cuban tobacco profusely filled the dimly lit conference room, and as always the personification of Uruguay, Sebastian, was less than amused at the prospect of inhaling second hand smoke. Hacking a dry cough, the Hispanic shot a sneering glance to his brother, taking a large gulp of water before deciding to scold him and anyone else in the room that cared to listen.

"_Me estas jodiendo Ismael_? [i] How can you even smoke at a time like this? You're about to get suspended from the (OAS) [ii] don't you think you should be fighting to keep your place in the organization rather than killing us all with your air cancer?"

The Cuban heaved a loud,"tsk," in annoyance, before flicking his excess cigar ashes on the table.

Usually Uruguay's hypercritical comments would cause Cuba to taunt him by puffing smoke into his face, but today was different. In fact, between with his recently broken ties with Venezuela and Columbia, and the threat of full embargo swaying over his head from his idiotic capitalist neighbor, America. The last thing he wanted was to torment his sibling, or deprived of nicotine.

"_Jodete y aprieta el culo_ [iii], Sebastian, I also heard that being a whiny jerk causes cancer too." Cuba sourly replied.

"If that's true you must terminal_ Ismaelito _[iv]," a male voice sarcastically interjected.

Turning their heads to the door, Uruguay and Cuba caught a glimpse of the intrusive duo entering the room, a young auburn haired man with a venomous glare, and a petite olive eyed woman holding a coffee cup trailing behind him.

The Cuban glowered, immediately recognizing them as his estranged ex-diplomatic partners.

"_Buenas tardes muchachos_,[v]" The Columbian woman starkly addressed.

"_Buenas tardes Columbia…Venezuela_," Sebastian and Ismael both reiterated in hushed mumbles.

The Columbian feigned a polite nod in return, while Venezuela, on the other hand, rudely huffed and assumed his seat next to the Argentinian enjoying his afternoon _yerba mate _[vi].Apparently the Venezuelan wasn't taking his grudge lightly, and neither was Cuba. Their icy exchange of glares from across the room proved that, much to everyone's dismay.

With the multitude of betrayals within his own family swirling around in his head, Cuba wondered if his remaining siblings would be so eager of throwing him under the bus as Venezuela and Columbia, or if they would strongly oppose his suspension. Perhaps it was far too late for all of them and the capitalist American pig had already turned them against him. The possibility itself pressed a raw nerve and mechanically he bore his teeth against his aged cigar.

Unable to sense the menacing aura radiating from Cuba, Chile cozily settled into his designated seat next to him. Interestingly enough, Cuba was one of Chile's few siblings he did, in fact, _tolerate_. Though he had a difficult time understanding why that was, especially since the brothers had their share of scrimmages in the past.

"_Hola, Cuba, alo, que tal,_ [vii]_" _he politely greeted.

Cuba forced a smile between cigar puffs. "_Que vola Chile_ [viii], I haven't seen you in a while. How's life, your country?"

Chile unemotionally shrugged. "We both have seen better days."

The Cuban nodded sympathetically and offered a cigar, but the Chilean opted for a rain check on the cigar for another day. Instead, the two conversed briefly on political philosophies and the current affairs of their respective countries, until a familiar chuckle grasped the back of their ears.

"_Hola Brazil_," Cuba and Chile remarked in unison.

The Brazilian gasped incredulously. "How did you know it was me? I was two feet from you jerks!"

"You're the only person I know that can laugh more obnoxiously than the American fat-ass, _weon_."[ix] The Chilean explained simply.

"Or just as the same," Ismael added with a flick of his cigar.

The tanned Latino fumed, feeling the nerve on the side of forehead throb three times its actual size. Sure, being teased about his snorted laughter was one thing, but to have his joyful chuckle compared to the American idiot's one, well that was just beyond teasing, that was an insult!

"Ignore them Miguel, everyone knows that Alfredo's annoying laugh doesn't have a snort at all." Mexico jokingly assured upon her arrival.

"Please, don't console me Mexico." Brazil retorted glumly.

Collectively snickering, Chile and Cuba grazed their sights on their sister. For the most part; she looked well. Her hourglass figure and healthy bronze complexion dictated that, and surprisingly, she wasn't attached to the hip the blond, free and self-professed American hero, as they often accused of being. So she ultimately looked more composed than she usually did. However, the brothers wondered how the fiery nation coped with the ills of the Cold War; especially with America keeping malicious tabs on her and suspected Latin American communist countries.

Concerns aside, the nations resumed business and took their place, neither of them too keen on beginning the conference.

"Okay, as this year's Organization of American States (OAS) meeting is held in my home. So, I say we get this thing started. Does anyone want to go first?" Uruguay glanced around the room for volunteers but only received banter of sluggish yawns and uncomfortable silence.

"Ahem, _discúlpeme Uruguay_, [x] but we can't start the meeting. I don't believe everyone is here yet." Peru sternly gestured to the empty seats to his right.

Uruguay scratched his chin. "You're right; it seems we are missing America and Panama…again."

"We're ten minutes behind schedule already; can't we just start without those two jackasses? There's a football game on in forty five minutes!"

Mumbles of agreement resonated with the Ecuadorian's agitated declaration.

"Why bother, my team is obviously going to win as always," Brazil boasted.

"_Ay, no frieges Brazil! _[xi] Your team isn't even playing today!_" _Nicaragua and Bolivia jointly exclaimed.

"No, but they should be. Brazil is the best football team in the league!"

Paraguay slapped his forehead in annoyance. "Oh, here we go again…bring up football and it's another FIFA riot. Now we're never getting out of here. "

Argentina roughly patted Paraguay's back, noisily slurping his herbal malt. "_Che, no te desanimes chabón, _[xii] Brazil is just jealous that I won the South American championship that's all, proving that Argentina is the undisputed football champions of the world. "

"I am not jealous you _mate-_drinking, Argentinean _imbecile_! Brazil should have won that match, and you know it!"

"_Che, no me rompas las pelotas Brazil, _[xiii] everyone knows that I won that game fair and square! Besides, what are you going to do about it? Break one of my legs like your stupid football players did to José Salomón. If I remember correctly, that's how you ended up losing in the first place,_" _the blond hissed.

"That's it, you're dead Argentina!"

Mexico groaned tirelessly as Brazil and Argentina mutually strangled each other senselessly. She might as well be at another juvenile NAFTA or World Conference.

"_Ya basta mano _[xiv], we're not here to fight about Argentina's crappy football team, or Brazil's creepy laugh!"

"HEY!" Argentina and Brazil irately interjected.

"What we're really here to discuss is the expulsion of that cigar smoking tyrant from the Organization of American States," Venezuela continued.

"So, is that how it is Venezuela? Anyone else want to kick me out of the same organization I helped create, while we're at it? Well, _digan algo cobardes_!" [xv] Cuba's chair made a sickening thud, and the room fell into a tense silence as they all observed the Cuban rise from his seat perturbed.

Uruguay nervously loosened his shirt collar. The meeting that he initially hoped would go smoothly was slowly going awry. Naturally, he knew that Cuba wasn't going to take his potential suspension effortlessly, but he at least anticipated that his suspension wouldn't start off like this. Then again, nothing ever went smoothly when it came to his siblings, especially Venezuela and Cuba. They were always the most quarrelsome and bluntest nations out of the group.

"Cuba, please sit down. We aren't kicking you out. At least, not without a two-third majority vote from all (OAS) members," Uruguay elucidated.

"If you ask me, it seems as if it's already decided. America told me that he would ensure he'd intact the embargo and Cuba's (OAS) expulsion. This whole meeting is pointless, and everyone knows it. Cuba is as good as banned from any (OAS) meetings as long as his boss sides with the USSR," Guatemala smugly remarked, crossing his arms across his chest.

Peru couldn't help but agree. Over a matter of time he had witnessed how Cuba's boss, Fidel Castro was slowly becoming a menace to the Americas. To him, the Cuban revolutionist was just another power hungry dictator bent on implementing fascist rule over his own impoverished country, just as many other rulers in Latin America before him.

"I hate to admit it, but Guatemala has a point. Castro's alliance with the USSR can only be construed as a threat to the (OAS) nations. America will not tolerate communism or political ties with Russia. Even Mexico, who has **intimate** relations with both America and Russia, can vouch for that."

Mexico glared at Peru, clearly not happy about being dragged into his assertion with his overtly sexual insinuation of her international relations.

In response, Cuba cast a malevolent sneer in their direction. "Does that mean that you are in favor of my suspension Guatemala, Peru…Mexico, or have you been paid off by the capitalist pig to do so? I've heard that some of you have been offered a fat aid package, just to stab me in the back, go ahead and take America's side and lick the bottom of his boots." He paused, glancing at Haiti who frowned in return. "But, I won't allow myself to be bullied around by him or his stupid administration anymore."

"It's not so much that you're being bullied around Cuba, more than the fact that your commie boss and soviet cronies, bullies everyone else. But not to worry, that's why the hero is finally here and with his trusty Panamanian sidekick, to set the world right again in the American way!" A tall blond addressed.

Panama, who was reluctantly carrying several bags of burgers for his American colleague alongside him, only cantankerously groaned.

"What the hell are you doing here, America?" Cuba frowned, curling his hands into tightly wounded fists.

America sardonically sighed. "Dude, didn't you hear me, Cuba…or all you commies hard of hearing? I said, I'm here to set things right and protect everyone here from you and the Soviets, even if that means expelling you from the (OSA) and officially sanctioning you're a-"

Cuba abruptly cuts his rival's next word by clutching his shirt collar. "Choose your next words more wisely, you pig or they may be your last." A puff of smoke gusted from his cigar, into the American's face. However, his adversary merely smiled back, unfazed by his threat.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same about your country, and that bat-shit Russian leader all you spineless Reds, take orders from."

Panama stood back, hesitant to intervene. Luckily both Mexico and Uruguay reacted quickly and placed a barrier between them, trying to diffuse the more than inevitable physical altercation from occurring.

"_America, por favor_," [xvi] pleaded Mexico softly.

America stared blankly at Mexico's hand on his chest holding him back from Cuba. The protective look in her eyes, etched with apprehension made his stomach lurch. He recalled seeing the same facial expression on Mexico's face when she had lost the Mexican-American War. Only this time she wasn't defending her land or pride, but his enemy. That primarily was the most unsettling to him of all.

"It's fine Mexico. I was just about to sit down," America irritably uttered, taking his seat.

Uruguay eyed his brother, still silently fuming from America's insult, "Cuba?"

The Cuban man shifted his gaze to the blond Uruguayan pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose."Let's just get this fucking over with."

Uruguay attentively nodded, watching him finally sink back into his chair, before ushering Panama to his table.

Mexico, conversely, sighed indignantly, catching the immediate attention of her less than amiable neighbor, Guatemala.

"_Vaya, vaya_ [xvii], maybe Peru is wrong this time about your loyalties to your **intimate** relations. What's wrong, trouble in paradise? Or are you actually siding with us for once, Mexico?" He faintly jeered.

Fortunately for Mexico, only Columbia heard the Guatemalan's hushed comment. Sparing her the further spread of nasty rumors that Peru already had announced publicly earlier. Nonetheless, the Hispanic woman scowled, making sure that her heel caught the Guatemalan's foot on her way to back to her seat, while disdainfully hissing, "_baboso," _[xviii] at him.

"You deserved it," Colombia reasoned, taking a sip from her coffee cup.

Guatemala only whimpered in pain, holding his injured foot.

* * *

><p>Back at the northern table in the conference room, America loudly conversed about his heroic weekend with Panama and Haiti.<p>

When his eyes met with Mexico, he furrowed his brows giving her a harsh, disapproving look, as she assumed the seat next to him. "Dude, what was that all about with Cuba?"

She rolled her eyes, straightening in her seat. "What did you want me to do America, watch you and my brother pummel each other to death?"

"No, but you could have supported me, the hero, instead of_ him_ and that communist Russian scum. How can you defend Cuba after what he did?" America's voice dropped down to a revolted growl, the memory of the Bay of Pigs Invasion, still fresh in his mind.

Mexico narrowed her eyes, "this is your cold war America, not ours. And I would appreciate it if you didn't tell me who I can or can't support, **gringo!**"

"I've told not to call me that, **border jumper**!" He snapped.

"If you two lovebirds are finished, we have a meeting to complete," Uruguay interrupted.

America mumbled a string of inaudible curses, while Mexico childishly pouted.

"Everyone is here now, can we just vote Uruguay?" Paraguay complained, raising his hand.

He nodded, "fine, let's start with you Paraguay. What's your vote?"

"In favor of both suspension of the arms of sales and membership." he mumbled.

Uruguay jolted the vote in his notebook and pointed out the next member with his trusty pen. "Haiti?"

The Caribbean nation blanched, "I uh…I'm in favor of suspension of arms of sales and membership."

America flashed a cocky grin at Cuba, sending a taunting non-verbal _fuck you _right at him.

Conversely, Cuba huffed and spitefully bore his teeth into his cigar.

"America," the Uruguayan monotonously addressed next.

"A communist government isn't a free country, and totally infringes on the principals of the inter-American system. I'm In favor of **immediate** suspension of arms of sales, membership, and full trade embargo." He acrimoniously replied.

His Cuban foe dryly scoffed in the background.

"What about you Peru?" Uruguay continued.

The Peruvian arched a brow, "in favor, of both suspension of arms of sale and membership, of course."

Uruguay cleared his throat before proceeding to the next member, "What say you Panama?"

The male nation chuckled nervously. "Ah, I...I'm sorry Cuba, but I also vote in favor of both suspension of arms of sale and membership. No, hard feelings?" Panama sought an answer in Cuba's face, but received only a dismissive glare that suggested Cuba considered him a traitor.

Sighing, Uruguay digressed. "Nicaragua, where do you stand?"

"The same, In favor of both suspension of arms of sale and membership," He flatly answered.

Venezuela scoffed, falling next in line to cast his vote. "You already know my vote, in favor."

"I also vote in favor of both suspension of arms and membership," Columbia remarked right after.

"Traitors," Cuba gruffly muttered.

"And what is your vote, El Salvador?" The Uruguayan despairingly inquired.

The Salvadorian male shrugged, "to be honest I don't have much against Cuba. I don't like him either, but I do respect him as my brother. That being said, I hate to agree with America, but I've decided to vote in favor too. "

"Costa Rica," the sound of Uruguay's voice caught the small nation off guard. She fidgeted nervously, avoiding as much eye contact with Cuba as possible when she finally broke her silence.

"After much consideration, I've also…decided to vote in favor of both suspension of arms and membership. I'm not sure I can support Castro's questionable leadership in the Americas, at this time."

Next to her, the personification of the Dominican Republic solemnly nodded. "Costa Rica is right. I also vote in favor of both suspension of arms and membership."

"Are you also vote in favor too, Honduras?" Uruguay asked, diligently tallying votes in his notepad.

Honduras yawned; the meeting thus far had been a real downer no wonders he was falling asleep. "If I say no, I'll have a grudge with America, but if I say yes, then I'll have a grudge with Cuba. Hmm…decisions, decisions, decisions. "

"Will you just answer already," barked Guatemala from across the room.

"Yeah Honduras, will you just say you're siding with me, _the hero,_ so that we move on." America persuaded with a mouthful of food.

"Don't tell my brother how to vote, hamburger brains! It's obvious he's going to side with me," Cuba disputed.

"Whatever dude, Honduras isn't stupid enough to side with a losing side," the American retorted.

"What do you know America, huh? Just look at him, he's dumb as rocks! How is he supposed to know that siding with capitalist pigs is bad for him?"

Within minutes, the Honduran's face switched from groggy to annoyed. "You know what; no, I've changed my mind. I'm going for the guy with money and the guns. I vote in favor of both suspension of arms and membership."

"What!" Cuba exclaimed.

America snickered, delivering a high five to Honduras who unenthusiastically returned it.

Cuba was not amused.

"While we're at it Uruguay, I'm casting my vote in favor too. There's no use in fighting something that's going to happen anyway."

"What happened to your foot, Guatemala?" He responded curiously, shifting his glasses to deflect the glare from the window of the sight of his bandaged foot.

"Never mind that, just cast my vote like I said," Guatemala resentfully complained.

"Fine, it's more likely, Mexico fault," Uruguay deluded to himself. "Argentina, what have you decided?"

The look on the Argentina's face grew serious and he immediately stopped slurping his drink. Brazil grew concerned; he rarely saw the serious side of his carefree brother. So, in the Brazilian's mind he knew that Argentina was as torn as all the other Latin nations in this major decision of Cuba's future.

"I agree with suspension of arms to Cuba, but I disagree with suspension of membership or a full sanction as America wants to do. Full sanctions could cripple any country; I don't want that for my brother, even if I may not like Castro and the crimes he's committed towards his own people. I'll consider partial sanctions, but I declare neutrality in suspension of (OAS) membership. It's not right, _che_."

"I second Argentina's decision, "Brazil collaborated.

Argentina's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Do you really mean it Brazil?" He moved forward to hug his rival, pressing his lips together in a kissing pout.

"Yes, and don't touch me." The Brazil glowered, pushing him away with a tinge of blush on his face.

"Does anyone else wish to abstain?" Uruguay inquisitively proceeded.

America observed the flashes of accordance on the faces of the remaining (OAS) members, eventually resting his eyes on the Mexican beauty aside him. He silently sulked, desperately wanting to reach out to her and caress her delicate pristine face, and persuade her to join him against Cuba. Perhaps, even smoothly lie to her and tell her that the embargo on her back-stabbing brother would be temporary if she agreed with his terms. Anything, if only it meant she wouldn't succumb to Russia's seduction of communism as his lovely Vietnam did. He grimaced; practically hearing Russia's antagonizing laughter echoing in the back of his head.

"_Este silencio es una lata_, [xix] I'm just going to abstain, too. Sanctions are not the answer to strained international diplomacy, neither is suspension of (OAS) membership. I will, however, agree to suspension of arms, but that's as far as I'll stand." Chile clarified, resting his hand under his chin.

"I'm also in accordance to immediate suspension of sales of arms, but I wish to abstain from voting on the decision of Cuban sanctions. Not because I particularly care about Castro, but because I don't want to support an embargo enforced by America in Latin America." Ecuador promptly stated.

"And what about you, Bolivia, are you in favor, against, or abstaining?" Uruguay asked.

The Bolivian lightly brushed his stubby ebony bangs from his face. "I can't see what good; full sanctions on Cuba will do for our economy. Or how suspension without an official reform of the charter is even permitted, but I understand everyone's concerns about Castro's political affiliation. Therefore, I'm abstaining too, but in favor of stopping sales of arms."

"Mexico?"

The Hispanic woman's eyes narrowed, feeling the attention of the room suddenly budge to her. "Uruguay," she flatly answered.

"What have you decided?" He persisted.

She clutched the ivory rosary adorning her slender neck, meeting her sympathetic gaze with Cuba's tired eyes.

"I can't condone formal suspension of a member without proper revision of the (OAS) charter, depriving Cuba of his revolution, or right to political affiliation. In all conscience, it's not fair. I hereby abstain from the vote for Cuba's suspension, but I'll opt for suspension of sales of arms if it will help lessen tensions."

America frowned, feeling his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. "You got to be kidding, Mexico." He sullenly whispered to her.

She frowned, tightly pursing her lips in irritation.

"Well, if that's everyone's final vote. Anyone who wishes to abstain in the election of trade sanctions can leave the room, now. Please feel free to join us afterwards, in forty five minutes, for the final resolution of today's meeting." The Uruguayan announced.

Several chairs scraped painfully against the floor as a few members started to gather their things to leave. Low hissing of betrayal arose from the divided nations, hitting the ears of the abstainers hastily shuffling towards the door.

"Mexico," America possessively caught the Mexican's right wrist, stopping her straight in her tracks.

"_Suéltame cabrón_," [xx] she frostily demanded.

America's gripped his grasp around her wrist, "No. You **don't understand**, please don't do this."

"It's _you _that doesn't understand America, now if you excuse me. I don't want to be here when you impose this unjustly embargo on Cuba." She struggled, attempting to snake her wrist from his hold, but instead felt him tug her closer to him as he stood to his feet.

"Me, not understand? You have no idea what the USSR is capable of. What communism is capable of," he furrowed his brows, closing his eyes in reflection. "It's nothing but an evil system that enslaves its own people and crushes their civil liberties. I won't allow my country crumble under that tyranny, or anyone else. It may be too late for Cuba but not for you. I mean just think that would happen if (they) got a hold of your country, your border…**our border**. I-I just can't see it come to that…" He wearily trailed off.

"So is that it? Am I and my people just a border for you to protect from your communist paranoia? Spare me; I've had enough of your saving. Now, let go me!" Her shrill demand now teetered between helplessness and anger, soon making them the main spectacle of the room.

"You're just confused, just like Vietnam, you don't mean that!"

Mexico's eyes widen, and America met her furious glare with his own. Her silence said it all; he had deeply offended her by comparing her to another nation. He had almost regretted saying it; memories of a stubborn Vietnam flooded his mind, few of them pleasant to say in the least.

"_Oye_, [xxi] she told you to let her go. Or what part of your imperialist pig brain didn't understand that?" Cuba forcibly jerked Mexico in his direction, causing the American's iron clad grip to loosen and slip.

"Stay out of this, Cuba, it doesn't concern you," America snarled.

"_Mira, pinche sapingo_, [xxii] it's just as much my business when you pull around my sister like your fucking property, when she isn't!"

America shot a threatening glance at Cuba, "she belongs more to me, than she has ever been to any of you. I can't remember the last time you ever helped Mexico out with anything, Cuba, but then again, you commies never do. All you Reds are interested in dictatorship and killing your own people."

"_Hijio de la gran puta, _[xxiii] you're going to pay for that!_" _Cuba thoughtlessly pushed Mexico aside, trying to claw his way to his eternal rival who stood there radiating in his pomposity. Nations now scrambled to break them up, sensing that this was the last straw that broke the camels between them.

When the room finally gained some form of self-control, Chile was holding a panting Cuba, Guatemala was holding an angry and distraught Mexican, while Panama and Uruguay held the world's super power back from cracking the Caribbean Island's skull. All in all, the atmosphere was hostile, a cruel reminder of all the nation's misgivings with themselves and others.

"Cuba, please leave." Uruguay listlessly ordered.

"Let's just go. I'll take you to your hotel room, _che_," Argentina calmly insisted.

Anger still burned through the Cuban's throat, making it hard for him to stammer out a reply. Unwillingly he complied, making his way to the door with the other abstainers and Guatemala.

Mexico gritted her teeth, loathing being dragged out the room by Guatemala out like a limp rag doll. She wanted to kick him in the shin or his groin, just so she could get free and give America a piece of her mind for making such a thick-headed remark.

Picking up on her violent cues, the Guatemalan shifted his clasp around the petite Mexican woman's waist and slung her over his shoulder. "Don't even think about it. I need my _cojones_ [xxiv] more than my right foot you trampled on earlier, you elephant."

She growled, clawing her nails deep into his shoulder. The Guatemalan flinched, cursing every vulgarity he could manage in a series of seconds; still he kept trying to haul her out the door. If not for her safety from that possessive American idiot she stupidly got involved with, but he couldn't tell her that was a small nation riddled with poverty, and corruption. How could he ever stand up to the great, the rich and free country of the United States of America? He couldn't do it, not for his people, not for himself, his siblings, and especially, not for Mexico. If only he could have, he thought, maybe their relationship would have worked. He sighed in defeat; he hated his own lingering thoughts sometimes.

"_Dejame en paz, güey, _[xxv] or I swear I'll rip out your throat Guatemala!" The Mexican continued to struggle from the Guatemalan's strong hold. She quickly realized that it was futile.

"Yeah, yeah, then you're going to make me wear like a bow-tie. Blah, blah, blah, I've heard it all before." Guatemala groaned back monotonously.

"Well, maybe, I'll surprise you this time," she venomously teased in his ear.

"I don't do well with surprises, you know that. I tend to shoot (things) that do."

She huffed into his neck, resting her head over his shoulder as he carried her over his shoulder like a potato sack. At one point, America glanced back at her despondently. A look she equally returned with a hint of malice, but before she managed to shout out his name. Someone had closed the conference door, blocking her view of him. Yet another set of borders, barriers, and walls that always painfully divided them. Yes, she was quite used to those by now when it came to her northern neighbor.

"Just let her go Guatemala. Or else she'll break a nail then blame it on us." Bolivia chided outside in the parking lot.

Typically, Mexico would have countered violently towards Bolivia for such a snappy comment, but found herself as emotionally spent as the others, to bother. So it wasn't a surprise to her when the nations unanimously elected to ditch the rest of the meeting and retire to their hotel rooms instead.

Brazil and Argentina were the first to say their farewells, and then was Chile and Bolivia. Now, fairly composed, the Cuban smiled and shook their hands in gratitude, even making plans to meet them later for drinks at a local bar.

"Are any of you two taking the Mexican terror back to her hotel room, or should I?" Ecuador questioned, holding his passenger car door open.

"I can take myself. I don't need an escort," Mexico bitterly spat.

Of course, they talked over her and blatantly ignored her. A habit the Latin brothers never fully broke when it came to their sister nations, much to the bodily injury earned afterwards.

"No, you go back to your room Ecuador. I might as well take her," Guatemala responded_._

Cuba didn't argue, although he wasn't entirely happy with Guatemala for ruling against him. He knew that Guatemala was one of the few Latin nations that personally related to Mexico in ways he just couldn't. Plus, with his mood not entirely stabilized yet, the Cuban didn't want to risk souring any more his relations. He had enough of that for today.

"Fine, it's your funeral, Guatemala. Oh, and Cuba…I'm sorry how things turned out. "Ecuador lamented, starting his engine."And you too, Mexico, that America…he's a huge hamburger jerk."

She stoically nodded, watching him close the door behind him and drive off into the darkening horizon. Leaving her, Cuba and Guatemala surrounded by the lingering scent of petrichor.

"You two should go, I think it's going to start to rain again soon," Cuba commented.

"Don't you think I know that?" Guatemala sneered. He motioned to Mexico to take the seat next to him in his car, a choice she hesitantly took since the prospect of hailing a taxi seemed taxing after today's ordeal.

"Will you be okay? Maybe, you should come with us," Mexico asked Cuba in a concerning pout.

"No that's O'kay. You two go ahead, before it starts to pour. If you decide to meet the rest of us later for drinks, we'll be at the southern bar in _Ciudad Vieja_." [xxvi]

"Are you paying?" Guatemala griped.

Cuba promptly swiped him in the back of his head, _"la luz no te llega hasta el ultimo piso, hermano. _[xxvii] I should make you pay for everyone's drink after you sided with the American swine."

"Yeah, well that American swine has more guns and bombs than your Russian bear. Are you sure you didn't pick a fight you couldn't win?"

Cuba leaned against the car door, a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. "Don't be too sure about that."

* * *

><p>"I believe the other members ditched us."<p>

"Then shouldn't we be celebrating?"

"I should have known today was going to be a disaster."

"I was promised a salad bar. Somehow, I feel that I've been lied to."

"Can we go home now?"

"Will someone tell Haiti to stop sticking pins into his voodoo doll, it's creeping me out!"

"I'm surrounded by idiots."

"For the last time, quit touching me Nicaragua!"

"Ha, since I'm the hero and leader of this conference. I say we ban all Cuban sugar exports and enforce the embargo with a totally kick-ass robot!"

"You can't solve everything with robots and super heroes!"

"I like robots. Hey, do you think the robot could have laser eyes?"

"Please, don't encourage America, Panama."

"I think that we're drifting off topic, here."

Uruguay rearranged his agenda notes in a neat stack, surveying the remainder of the (OAS) members. He was relieved that the meeting resumed to its usual scattered hijinks, despite its earlier disruptions between Cuba, America and Mexico. His only regret was not accomplishing as much done on his agenda as he originally planned. Though considering it all, no one killed each other, and that was a victory in itself, even if several of his siblings decided to ditch the remainder of his meeting.

"Since, a few of us, have decided to leave and not return for final resolution. I've decided just read the final verdict of our deliberation on Cuba's expulsion from the Organization of the American States," Uruguay started.

"Then, speak up! What is it?" Venezuela curtly demanded.

Colombia gave the Venezuelan a cold criticizing look, before speaking her mind. "Shouldn't we, wait a few minutes more? It seems rude to continue without the other members present. Well…except for Cuba, that is," she smirked.

"Yeah, maybe Mexico is running a little behind," America mumbled to nobody in particular.

The room cumbersomely paused.

"I-I think it would be best to continue without Mexico and the other abstainers, since we're already… so far behind schedule. I promise to fill in Ms. Mexico about the details later," Costa Rica awkwardly suggested.

America reluctantly nodded, silently urging Uruguay to resume.

"Let the records show that by majority rule of the committee, have ruled that the adherence by any member of the Organization of American States to Marxism-Leninism is incompatible with the inter-American system and the alignment of such a government with the communist bloc breaks the unity and solidarity of the continent. That the government, of Cuba, which has officially identified itself as a Marxist-Leninist government, is incompatible with the principles and objectives of the inter-American system and that this incompatibility, hereby excludes the present government of Cuba from participation in the inter-American system." [xxviii]

"So…that means Cuba is out of the (OAS), right Uruguay?" El Salvador inanely presumed aloud.

"Yes," Uruguay answered.

"Like, I said. I'm surrounded by idiots," Paraguay repeated in a low groan.

"Meeting adjourned; we'll be meeting tomorrow to discuss the (OAS) agenda plan on the Cuban embargo," Uruguay wrapped up.

With the meeting at last to a close, the nations readily gathered their belongings and hustled out the door.

"Well, you should be happy America. After all, you took a break from the war in Vietnam, to ensure that Cuba was suspended from the (OAS). Seems as if you're succeeding in isolating my brother's country," Uruguay casually remarked.

The American arched a brow and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Who said I was trying to isolate Cuba?"

"No one makes an enemy out of you, and doesn't expect any consequences."

"Jeez dude, you make me sound like some mafia godfather, or something, and besides, even if I were trying to isolate Cuba, it would be for everyone's good. I, mean I'd be a crummy hero if I couldn't even protect my own neighbors." America scoffed.

"Neighbors like Mexico?" Uruguay interposed.

"Yeah, like stubborn, stupid Mexico," He sighed.

Uruguay smiled; his sister and America were too much alike sometimes. "She won't be angry for long. After a few tequila shots and a good night's rest, I'm sure things between you would have blown over."

"Yeah, I'm sure…because Mexico never holds any grudges," he sarcastically chuckled.

"Here," Uruguay slipped the blond a white business card. "I know that if I didn't tell you where she is, you might send one of your agents track her down instead. Give them the night off, and go yourself. Just don't tell her, I told you. Or else, she'll have another grudge against me too."

Stunned, and slightly impressed, the American grinned. "T-thanks, dude, I owe you one."

Walking away, Uruguay waved his hand dismissively. "You can make it up to me, by coming to tomorrow's meeting bright and early with Mexico, relatively sober."

"Just, don't expect any miracles." America droned after him.

* * *

><p><strong>ReferencesTranslations:**

i "Are you fucking kidding me, Ismael?"

ii (OAS) The Organization of American States.

iii "Go fuck yourself."

iv A term of endearment for Cuba's human name.

v "Good afternoon, boys."

vi An herbal malt, predominately drank in South America.

vii Chilean Spanish slang for, "what's up."

viii Cuban Spanish slang for, "what's up."

ix Chilean slang for, "dude, or buddy."

x "Excuse me, Uruguay."

xi "You're kidding!"

xii "Don't let him get you down, dude."

xiii "Don't bust my balls. (Che) is a Spanish diminutive interjection (a vocative expression) commonly used in Argentina and Uruguay.

xiv "That's enough, man!"

xv "Say something, you cowards!"

xvi "Please, America."

xvii "Well, well."

xviii "Moron/fool."

xix Chilean Spanish slang for, "what a bore."

xx "Let go of me, bastard."

xxi Cuban Spanish slang, "hey."

xxii "Look you fucking idiot, jackass."

xxiii "Son of a bitch."

xxiv "Balls."

xxv "Leave me alone, you dick." (Though, güey is typically Mexican Spanish slang for, "dude." It's also used as an inslut, in certain contexts.)

xxvi The name of the oldest part of the city of Montevideo, capital city of Uruguay.

xxvii A person with reduced brain activity.

xxviii The actual (OAS) vote for Cuba's suspension from the group, was passed by 14 in favor, with one against (Cuba) and had six abstentions (Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Ecuador, and Mexico). Recently, Cuba's suspension was lifted in 2009, and his membership reinstated. Cuba, however still declined the offer to rejoin, regardless.

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